Storm-Sized Hole

Minus one.

You will have to excuse some of the choppiness of this post. I wanted to reserve my blog for more polished writings but, as you will see, my life is a bit fragmented right now. I could say something poetic about the style mimicing my fractured life, but I pride myself in being honest: I just haven't the gumption to make this a proper piece due largely to mental illness.

Storm, my 13-year-old bearded collie, companion, teammate, and roommate, passed on Thursday, January 11, 2018 sometime in the 4PM hour. His poor little body just couldn't take all of those chronic health issues anymore. He let me know that he was ready on Monday the 8th after I had hung up with the vet. He went as comfortably as he could, laying on the comforter he fell asleep on as I drove him home for the first time, with his shaggy head in my hands as I layed in front of him. The last command I gave him was "down".

Storm was my world and, despite nearly three weeks in an empty apartment, I still grieve fairly heavily. When you've kept the company of a dog as fine as he was you don't simply get over it. To some degree I never will.

I've written about him and the loss a bit on my Facebook. I may move a couple of those posts over here at some point; for now, I've put today's moment below.

~*~

Managed a couple of geocaches today after getting my hair cut. Took a wrong turn on my way to the ones I had planned and decided to let the road lead me to a different one. Wound up at a park that Storm and I tried to walk after I got some mobility back - our first in about two years. Physically I was notably stronger today than I was then, and as I picked my way through the sheet ice and last remnants of snow in the wrong shoes for the activity I wished he was there to see it. Look, Old Man. Look what I can do again. Please, won't you adventure with me? Can't we go back a few years before you were in so much pain now that I can give you the kinds of things you deserved all along?

The first time I took you out on lead you gave me a fresh, new reason to figure my problematic health out. I swore I'd get myself sorted just to feel you running beside me in a flash of white majesty. You deserved a healthy friend.

"Healthy" proved itself a word seldom used in our various homes. For over 12 years we struggled through our chronic health issues (sometimes the same ones) and matched each other's paces. You very seldom pulled and was patient with my intermittent slowness and illness. When I trained you on a Flexi (ugh) so you could run a bit on my sickest days you instead stayed close to me. I understood. I was just as much your job as you were mine.

As time went on I felt the pace shift and you had more hard days than I did. I caught myself outpacing you a couple of times - but I didn't need a command to slow down. It was an honor to escort you as you had done for me. We walked into your twilight together.

In these days where I'm forcing myself to walk alone where you would have joined me it's not just a Beardie-sized hole at my left side that I'm feeling. It's the Storm-sized hole in my universe that is the hardest to take.